


A Promise in Red

by Anonymous



Category: Buzzfeed The Try Guys (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bathtubs, Blood Drinking, Friendship, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 21:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15715425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: He needed blood. Hewantedblood. He wanted to rip someone’s throat apart with his claws, dig his fangs into succulent flesh,gorgehimself. It was pure, animalistic desire and the smell of salvation was so close: a warm, pulsing rush to quench the terrible thirst. Eugene’s fingers twitched. He wanted –





	A Promise in Red

Eugene knew they had a problem when the Try Guys’ camera assistant informed them their flight had been delayed. Due to an incoming blizzard, no less, that was expected to last for about a week because this was fucking _Alaska_.

Being stuck in one place was usually not a problem – not with the huge populations human cities grew to now, where one or three dead bodies a month simply drowned in the slew of all other crimes committed. The police usually had bigger problems than bloodless, discreetly disposed of shells of skin and bone. Most of the time, his victims didn’t even die: no one questioned a hickey the size of a hand after a night of hard partying, and if a love bite broke the skin, so what? It was just so _good_ , sometimes, to suck the last few drops from a struggling heart, sharp with fear and sweet with death-endorphines.

Anyway, this place was not a city, a murder would definitely be noticed, and Eugene hadn’t eaten in a week. His throat was parched. No matter how much food he stuffed into his stomach, it refused to stop gnawing at his insides. He needed blood. He _wanted_ blood. He wanted to rip someone’s throat apart with his claws, dig his fangs into succulent flesh, _gorge_ himself. It was pure, animalistic desire and the smell of salvation was so close: a warm, pulsing rush to quench the terrible thirst. Eugene’s fingers twitched. He wanted –

“Hey, Eugene? You okay?”

He startled. The snowy white hills surrounding their back porch swam into focus in front of his eyes, along with Zach Kornfeld’s worried face.

“I... yes? Totally fine.”

“You’ve been out here without a jacket for twenty minutes now.”

“And?”

Zach crossed his arms in front of his chest. “And it’s minus twenty degrees out. Centigrade.”

Eugene frowned. Now that the world was sharp and clear again, he noticed his limbs had grown stiff. He couldn’t feel or move his fingertips. “Oh.”

“Get back in, dude.” Zach threw the glass door open and stepped inside, calling out for the others. “Hey, anyone, do we still have tea? Eugene’s frozen into a popsicle out there.”

Eugene looked after him. Zach was only wearing a light shirt – their thermostat was cranked to max – and the slim white line of his neck was like a siren song.

He clenched his fingers around the porch rail, only barely noticing that his nails were cutting marks into the wood. He would never, ever forgive himself if he hurt any of his friends.

He could do another week without killing anyone. It would take a toll on his sanity, but he could do it. He _must_.

 

* * *

 

The hardest were the nights, staring awake into the darkness. So, so close to the drumbeat of three sleeping hearts.

He only needed to reach out a hand to touch, grab, take.

Sometimes he wished his friends weren’t so clueless. If they knew... no. They would destroy him.

 

* * *

 

By day three, Eugene was running on fumes. They had been cooped up in close quarters for the past two days and even on a normal day that was enough to drive him up the wall. He didn’t understand how Keith and Zach managed to stay positive while drinking tea and watching the third re-run of Dragonball Z on the one channel that still worked after the storm had knocked down the dish on the rooftop. Sugar shock, maybe?

Only Ned joined Eugene in his slow deterioration of mental faculties, if more for the fact that their cell phone service had taken a dive and he hadn’t been able to talk to Ariel in forty-eight hours.

When the opportunity arose to visit the nature conservation center again, not that there would be much to see, Eugene buried himself under the covers of his bed and started to fake sneezing.

Zach threw himself on the lump of bedding that was Eugene. “Come on, man! I bet we can feed the wolves again.”

Eugene stuck his head out. The warm, beckoning smell of human flesh hit him in the face like a hammer. He grit his teeth, fighting for control. “You are way too excited about blood cubes.”

“Who doesn’t love a good blood cube?” Zach grinned toothily. “So, you coming with?”

“No.”

He couldn’t risk having to explain why he was sucking on frozen chicken blood. Would that happen? Animals held no appeal to him, but it was still _blood_.

The covers shifted and Eugene swatted vaguely upwards.

“Go away, Zach!”

 

* * *

 

The third “night,” Eugene broke. Having the day to himself, even if it was in a closed, overheated room, felt like a balm to his rubbed-raw conscious. He watched more anime, ate leftover nachos and when his hunger made him restless, he contemplated ripping out a wall. He didn’t do it.

Instead he curled up in bed without the covers – they smelled too much like his friends – and tried to sleep.

Which turned out to be a grave mistake when he woke up to pitch-black darkness and the overwhelming urge to _rip-tear-drink-mine_.

Shadows moved in the dark in front of him.

“Eugene, you awake?”

Zach’s voice.

Eugene wanted to follow it, tackle him to the floor and shred his throat. His blood would spill all over the carpet in black, glistening gushes, no color in the night. It would all happen so quickly, he wouldn’t even get time to scream.

Eugene rose from the bed.

“Are you feeling a little better?”

Concern. For him. How cute. He should be worried about himself.

Eugene inched to the foot of the bed. Zach was standing by the door, about six feet away from him. He could jump that, but the door was open. If he didn’t make it, the human would flee. It would be dangerous if he alerted any others.

Forcing his muscles to relax, Eugene walked around the bed as nonchalantly as possible. He rubbed his face, trying to look sleepy. “How was the trip? Wolves again?”

“Yeah, and the eagle was there too, although he didn’t look happy about the snow.”

“Can’t imagine he would.”

Eugene was not even aware of what came out of his mouth. His vision bled into deep red. He was right in front of Zach now. His claws itched, he allowed them to lengthen, ready to grab and –

Ned’s voice cut over the rushing in his ear. “Hey Zach, Eugene! Feeling better?”

Realization hit Eugene like a bucket of ice water. He flinched, eyes widening in horror. He had just been about to... about to...

“Eugene, are you alright? You look a little pale.”

“I need air.”

He pushed his friends out of the way and ran for the nearest exit, storming out into the night on bare feet. The snow prickled on his skin, a thousand freezing needles. He clung to the pain. It helped him think. _Don’t go back. Don’t hurt your friends._

“Eugene!”

He could still hear the worry in Zach’s tone, making it pitchier. Eugene tripped over something and stopped. He forced his voice to sound normal. “I’ll be right back.”

_Don’t you fucking dare to touch your friends._

Crunching in the snow. Zach was still wearing his boots. “Yeah, and I suddenly don’t like music any more. What’s wrong with you?”

Like this, Eugene could feel the heat radiating from his body from ten feet away. It beckoned. It felt like being teased, the way Zach’s delicious human smell wafted from his clothes.

Out here it would be so easy. Zach could get lost, Eugene needn’t have seen him, it was dark. No one would ever know.

“Or do you need blood?”

Eugene froze. “What?”

Zach was almost right behind him now. “You heard me.”

“How –,” Eugene had to swallow against the sudden panic in his throat. “How do you –”

“- know?” Zach finished. “Because it’s kinda obvious?”

Eugene turned to face him, color draining from his face. “No, it’s not. Humans never notice.”

“I –”

Zach’s jaw dropped, as if he’d only now realized that Eugene was not denying it. As if he’d still hoped, despite knowing better, that he was being led on, or that this was some grand cosmic joke or something.

Oh, how many times Eugene had wished it were. Never more so than right now. He gripped Zach’s shoulders, towering over him. For the moment, the shock of being discovered blocked everything out. “Explain. Now.”

Zach pushed him off. “You are so not subtle. Your looks, for starters. The fact that you never seem to age a day? I’m honestly surprised I’m the first one to figure it out, and that’s not even counting your abnormal alcohol tolerance.”

His blue eyes sparked, never wavering as Eugene stared him down.

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“Are you serious? How stupid do you think I am?”

“I don’t know, Zach. You ran after me.” Eugene gestured around them. “In Alaska.”

“Says the man forgetting his existence while on the porch _in Alaska_ ,” Zach shot back, growing agitated. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Away from here,” Eugene stepped back. “So I don’t accidentally eat one of you.”

He started to walk away.

Zach followed. “Do you always have to kill someone to feed?”

“No.”

Eugene briefly contemplated going back to get a jacket and shoes. The cold wouldn’t kill him – at least not quickly – but fetching his things would mean meeting Ned and Keith again, and he’d had enough of overpowering human smell for a day.

A hand curled over his elbow.

“Then take my blood.”

Eugene stopped dead. Zach was too close to stop on time and ran into him.

“Whoops.”

Eugene caught him before they both lost their balance. “No.”

“But I’m offering,” Zach protested. “Or will getting bitten turn me into a vampire?”

“What? No.” Eugene pulled a face. “That’s a modern myth.”

Zach unzipped the top of his jacket and got to work on the buttons of his shirt. “Well, okay then. Go ahead. Dinner’s served.”

“It’s not that easy.”

The first button popped open – it took a little longer with his clammy fingers – and a whiff of _skin-blood-alive_ filled Eugene’s nose. He abruptly let go of Zach.

“Eugene?”

“Go back inside. You have no idea what you’re offering.”

“You need to feed, I have blood, just take it!” Zach cried. “Have you looked into the mirror recently? You look like shit, like, worse than I have ever seen you before. Why are you being stubborn?“

He reached for Eugene, who flinched away from the touch. “I would hurt you. I could _kill_ you.”

“You’d hurt us way more if you died, or whatever you were planning on doing out in the Alaskan wilderness _by yourself_.” Zach stepped closer, nothing but concern on his face. “Please, Eugene,” he pleaded. “You’re my _friend_. I’d rather you don’t kill me, but I don’t want to see you _die_. Let me help you, _please_.“

Maybe it was the lack of fear that suggested Zach indeed knew what he was doing. Maybe it was the intoxicating, alive smell and living warmth radiating off him. Or a combination of both. Whatever it was, Eugene gravitated towards it, pulled by invisible strings. His throat was burning and Zach offered salvation: like a desert wanderer at a spring, he was too weak to resist. But still, he held himself back. “Not here.”

 

* * * 

 

They went into their shared bathroom with whispered words of assurances to their tired friends.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t fall over while showering,” Zach promised, throwing a careless smile into the room before closing and locking the door.

It was still stupid, Eugene thought, for his friend to lock himself in with a predator. He pointed at the bathtub. “In there.”

“How romantic,” Zach commented, but nonetheless pulled off his cardigan.

Eugene shrugged. “Easier to clean off the stains later.”

“That’s. Uh.”

For the first time this night, Zach’s confidence wavered. He approached the tub like it might bite him. Which, ha fucking ha.

Eugene climbed in first and gestured for Zach to do the same. When they were both settled on their knees, he leaned in. The delicious proximity of a heartbeat had his fangs growing from their sheaths, stretching gums.

Zach stared with wide blue eyes that shone in the cold bathroom light.

“Are you sure?” Eugene asked.

Zach tipped his head back. “As much as I ever can be.”

Eugene hooked a finger into the collar of his tee and pulled it down. Purple veins ran like rivers under his skin. “That was a Yes or No question, Zach.”

“Yeah, but –”

Eugene bit down. Hot, sweet blood rushed into his mouth. Instantly, it overwhelmed him. He wrapped both arms around Zach’s body and yanked him close. He felt the other’s heart gallop against his ribs.

Zach let out quiet gasps and clung to him, whimpering whenever Eugene shifted positions because it must hurt.

The effect of the bite became apparent soon: Zach’s fingers turned clammy on Eugene’s shoulders and he started to tremble, all the warmth leached from his core to gather in Eugene’s belly. Panic shortened his breath when the blood loss gradually began to outweigh the pain. His taste changed, too, sharpening like a burst of wasabi.

“Eugene,” Zach croaked and yanked at his hair. “Stop. You need to stop.”

 _He’s afraid_ , Eugene thought, somewhere far away. Afraid and dizzy and about to pass out, and Eugene needed to stop right now.

He didn’t. He _couldn’t_. Like the man at the spring he wasn’t able to stop himself, drinking with deep gulps until the good of it got to his head like honey-wine.

Zach’s grip loosened until his hands fell to his sides. His heartbeat slowed, barely pulsing now against Eugene’s greedy tongue.

This, finally, roused him enough to lift his mouth from his victim. What he saw made his chest clench: Zach was unconscious in his arms, with bloodshot eyes and white lips. He was still breathing but shallowly, and the air rasped sickly in his throat. His skin was cold. So, so cold.

“No,” Eugene whispered. _What have I done?_ “No, no, no.”

He clutched Zach’s limp body and turned on the shower. Hot water poured over both of them, drenching them down to their skin.

“If I’m not allowed to die a stupid death, you aren’t either. Don’t you dare die on me,” Eugene growled.

He settled into the tub with Zach draped over him, swirls of red in the water around them, and vowed to stay right here for however long it would take. _You’ll be okay, Zach. I’ll make you okay._


End file.
